


Sorry, Were You Sleeping?

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Oral Sex, Tumblr Prompt, return from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Post-Billy's return from the sea.





	Sorry, Were You Sleeping?

 

Flint pushes the tent flap aside and gazes down at Billy lying on the cot in the corner. He still can’t believe he’s alive, that he’s  _here_.

Billy stirs and looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Captain?”

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Flint says unnecessarily. He lets go of the flap and they’re alone in the tent.

Billy pushes himself to a sitting position. “It feels like all I’ve done is sleep. I’ve slept enough.”

Flint nods. He knows that feeling, but he has to talk with Billy now while he has the chance.

“Something you wanted?” Billy asks when the silence grows too much. He may not be sleepy but he’s still exhausted. Being back among the crew is good, but he feels like he’s treading a familiar path blindfolded. Being alone with Flint, doubly so. 

“Why did you say that?”

“Say what?” Billy looks at him levelly. He knows what Flint is asking and he doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to remember that day, slipping from the side of the ship into the sea, the waves rushing over him dark and deep, the long time in the water, feeling himself sink further and further, and then the sun glaring down upon his exposed body, relentless and cruel.

Billy shudders. He looks down, away from Flint’s gaze. He thinks he sees a hint of concern there, but it can’t be true.

“You know what.” Flint prods.

“Silver pointed out it would be more advantageous for the crew to be unified now, rather than divided pointlessly.”  

Flint considers this. “And you just went along with him?”

“He had a point. And he seems to have gained an advantage himself in the crew.” Billy mutters. That rankles.

Flint tilts his head slightly. “Are you jealous?”

The question takes Billy by surprise. He doesn’t expect Flint to even be aware of him, let alone take notice of how he feels about a matter like this.

“Jealous.” He repeats. “Of Silver?”

“Yes.” Flint waits.

Billy swallows hoarsely. His throat hurts. He’s never admitted anything like this before, especially not to the captain of all people. 

“Yes.”

Now he really can’t take Flint’s expression, so he reaches for the water bucket sitting on the ground. Only his hand fumbles with the ladle and it spills across the floor between them. Billy flushes, bending down to reach for it, only he collides with Flint who’s reaching for it at the same time.

They bump heads and they both wince, moving back.

“Sorry.” Billy mutters.

Flint just shakes his head. He scoops the ladle into the bucket and brings it up full with water, offering it to Billy. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Billy takes the ladle without meeting his gaze.

Flint watches him drink. “You don’t have cause to be jealous.” He says at last.

“I know.” Billy drops the ladle into the bucket and wipes his mouth. His head feels a little steadier.

“You do?”

“I’m lucky I’m still on your crew at all.” Billy says evenly.

He starts to stand up and Flint places a hand on his knee, causing him to freeze.

“That’s not what I mean.” Flint says just as evenly. “I meant what I said earlier. When I said it was good to have you back.” He’s looking at Billy with a curious expression. “Silver is useful to have aboard the Walrus, I won’t deny that.”

Billy starts to draw back. “I know.”

“No.” Flint says. “You don’t.” His hand tightens on Billy’s knee. “I’m beyond relieved that you’re alive, Billy.” His eyes are bright, almost as though there’s some unspoken, restrained grief behind them, grief that Billy doesn’t understand. Why would Flint grieve for him?

“… lost so much.” Flint murmurs. He breaks off, gazing down for a moment, a shadow fallowing across his face. And then he looks up into Billy’s eyes, searching his face with  hollow-eyed desperation.

“Let me make it up to you.” Flint whispers. His hand moves over Billy’s thigh, just a breath away from his groin.

_He can’t mean. Can he?_

“Captain, you don’t have to.” Billy’s mouth is dry, he licks his lips, unable to form more coherent words. He doesn’t want Flint to do anything he doesn’t want to.

Flint’s grip on his thigh tightens, and then falls away. “I know.” He starts to straighten up.

“But if you want to.” Billy says helplessly. “I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more…” He’s trembling slightly as Flint looks back at him.

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t want to.” Flint states softly and then slowly draws Billy’s breeches down.

Billy lies there silently watching Flint’s hands move down his thighs. Flint’s hands are rough and calloused, but Billy can’t remember the last time he was touched so gently.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word.” Flint says and all Billy can manage is a nod.

Flint’s hands grip his hips as Flint lowers his mouth. Billy sucks in a harsh breath as Flint takes him in his mouth. The feel of it, the heat of Flint’s tongue wrapping around him as his fingers glide down Billy’s thighs, it’s utterly overwhelming.

 _“Ca-aptain.”_  Billy stutters it out. The sensation is too much. His skin feels raw under Flint’s fingertips.

Flint pulls off, his mouth wet and his eyes bright. “Call me by my name.”

“Flint.” Billy breathes, and there’s a stab of something painful in Flint’s eyes before he ducks his head down again.

Billy groans as Flint fucks his cock with his mouth, taking him all the way down in his throat. He’s not going to last long at this rate and Flint knows it.

One of his hands is gripping the edge of the cot, the other reaches for Flint’s hair. His fingers slide cautiously through the auburn locks and then, in a moment of reckless abandon, Billy tugs the tie holding Flint’s hair free.

At the sight of that, Flint’s head between his legs, his hair spread loosely over his brow, touching Billy’s thighs, Billy’s hips cant upward, unable to hold back any longer.

“Captain, I’m going to.” He tries to warn Flint, but Flint just grips his hips harder, holding him down, letting Billy spill down his throat in short, desperate bursts.

Billy gasps, as Flint sits back up. He wipes his mouth, gazing down at Billy.

“Do you still want to be part of my crew?” Flint asks.

Billy gazes up at him. He’s not sure what he wants anymore, he’s not sure he can ever trust Flint again. But looking up at Flint, he finds himself wanting to.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Flint leans down, a hand on either side of Billy’s shoulders and brushes his mouth across Billy’s dry lips, just once, a mere murmur of a kiss. “The Walrus will be waiting when you’re ready to return to her.”

He’s gone from the tent before Billy can say a word in response. If wasn’t for Flint’s tie still clutched tightly in his hand, he’d have thought it all a dream.


End file.
